


Drinking Games

by qweendweeb



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alcohol warning, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 18:24:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2478053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qweendweeb/pseuds/qweendweeb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grif and Simmons play gay chicken and they're both too stubborn to back out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drinking Games

**Author's Note:**

> based on a tumblr post; "Ways that Grif and Simmons would actually get together"

They were all at a bar, and that’s weird because Grif couldn’t even remember the last it he was at  bar. It was completely empty sans the Reds, Blues, the lieutenants, Carolina, and Dr. Grey. Kimball was very adamant about not being seen out drinking since she was a public figure.

“It’s weird right? All of us. In a _bar_.” Tucker said smiling. The bar wasn’t all that great, but, hey, there was booze so the gang didn’t really care.

“It’s nice. I like not carrying my gun everywhere.” Donut replied from behind his neon pink drink.

“You all are going to be sorry when we’re under attack.” Sarge said, being the only one still in full armor, his shotgun laying on his lap.

“You need medical help, Sarge.” Church said. The hologram stood on the table, just barely taller than the beer bottle he was next to.

“What we _need_ is some fun drinking games.” Carolina said as she came back to the table, a bottle of tequila in one hand and a plate holding several shot glasses in the other. “Drink off. Who’s in?” She raised an eyebrow, challenging them.

“Fucking _hell_ yes.” Tucker agreed happily.  

“Count me in.” Grif said.

“Wash?” Carolina asked, smirking.

Wash laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’ll play your game.”

“Me too.” Simmons said, to everyone's surprise.

Everyone playing the game sat with ten shots in front of the. “The game is simple. Be the first one to drink all ten shots. Without throwing up.” She said the last part looking at Tucker. Tucker flipped her off. “ _And_ ,” Carolina continued on, “If you can beat me, you get twenty bucks.”

“On your marks, get set. Go!” Donut said, one of the few not participating in the competition.

Grif slammed down his third shot glass, keeping an eye on Carolina because Grif knew she was his only real competition.

Four shots later, Carolina was only one ahead of him and everyone not playing was cheering on everyone else. That was until Donut’s voice yelled over all of them, “And Simmons is our winner?” His sentence tilted up at the end into a question.

They all stopped and looked to see ten empty shot glasses in front of a redhead. Just not the redhead everyone expected.

All of the lieutenants laughed and Jensen clapped Simmons on the back. Carolina reluctantly handed over his prize.

“Well then. What’s next?” Wash asked. The night turned into the early morning as they all played as many bar games they could think of.

After they were done playing strip poker, someone suggested they play gay chicken. Then someone else, Tucker, suggested that _Grif_ and _Simmons_  should play gay chicken. 

“If I win I get that twenty bucks you stole from me earlier.” Grif said.

“I won that fair and square. But fine. Deal.” Grif was surprised that Simmons agreed. A shiver ran down his spine but Grif convinced himself that it was because of his beer and how cold the bar was.

There was a cheer from the group as Grif and Simmons positioned themselves in front of each other.

“You can back out now if you want.” Grif offered. The man sitting in front of Grif just shook his head.

“I’m keeping my twenty dollars.”

Grif shrugged, then moved forward getting closer to him. Simmons did the same and Grif realized he’d never seen Simmons freckles so up close. Simmons licked his lips and Grif’s gaze flickered down to watch.

Now they were only about seven inches apart, Grif rested his hand on Simmons’ hip tentatively. He could feel Simmons breath on his lips, it smelt like alcohol but Grif was sure his breath smelt the same. To retaliate, Simmons put his hand on Grif’s neck, running his thumb along Grif’s jaw.

“You’re not drunk.” Grif stated in a whisper so only Simmons would hear. He definitely knew what Simmons was like when he was drunk, hiccup-y and giggly. What Grf was saying was that he didn’t understand why Simmons was going along with this.

“And neither are you.” Simmons replied.

The two were so close now that Grif couldn’t really see anything, so he just closed his eyes. Their lips were only millimeters away, Simmons let out a shaky breath on Grif’s skin. Grif stopped moving, he wasn’t going to pull away but he also wasn’t gunna be the one to initiate the kiss.

After a moment of neither of them moving the tension in the room became practically palpable. Grif was almost sure Simmons was going to pull away, but he didn’t know if he wanted that.

It was then that Simmons advanced forward, softly pressing his lips to Grif’s. Grif hadn’t realized how silent the room had gotten until it erupted with cheers, clapping, and laughter.

Suddenly it wasn’t a game anymore. Before, had either of them pulled away, Grif and Simmons could have laughed about it. _‘Remember that time we almost kissed?’ ‘Yeah, man, that was fucking hilarious.’_

But now, _now_ Grif knew what Simmons tasted like. Sure the flavor of tequila was there, but only as underlying hints. Grif moved his other hand to Simmons upper thigh, and Simmons tangled his hands in Grif’s hair. It felt amazing, Simmons soft lips. And Grif wanted to memorize every second of the kiss, he wished they had done this sooner. Why hadn't they done this _sooner_? 

He sighed into Simmons mouth. Then, abruptly and simultaneously they both stopped.

Simmons moved back to look into Grif’s eyes. The Hawaiian could see several different emotions swimming in Simmons’ eyes; nervousness, confusion, weariness, excitement.

Grif didn’t know what to say until he realized something. “You pulled away.”

“Huh?” Simmons asked, not getting it. His hands were still on Grif.

“You pulled away first.” Grif was smiling fully. “I win.”

Simmons pulled away completely, now the main emotion Grif could see was anger. “Are you _kidding_ me right now?”

“A deals a deal Simmons.” Grif shrugged like there was nothing he could do about it. The redhead pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and set the twenty dollar bill on the table.

A little disappointedly, the group moved on to Never Have I Ever with drinking mixed into it. Dr. Grey was very creative.

“Happy?” Simmons asked as Grif shoved the money into his pocket.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

It was well past four in the morning when the group was walking back to the hotel they were staying in for the time being. It wasn’t too far from the bar they had spent the entire night in.

Grif and Simmons were walking together, trailing behind a bit, though hey hadn’t really said much to each other the rest of the night after the kiss. 

After a while, Grif stopped walking. Simmons turned to ask what was wrong but Grif cut him off.

“I’m starving, and like, not tired at all. You wanna go to that twenty-four hour dinner we saw a few blocks back? I’m buying.” He added after a second of hesitation on Simmons’ part.

Simmons scowled slightly. “You better be fucking paying. Asshole.”

Grif only smiled, putting out a hand. Simmons took it, and the two turned around and walked off. Not bothering to tell their friends where they were off to **.**


End file.
